Tyosh Reuna
Tyosh Reuna DM Handle: Zylazlo- Email: Skolnick_m@hotmail.com Name: Tyosh Reuna Age: 24 Gender: Male Height: 5'10 Weight: 170 Eyes: Dark green, tilted. Hair: Long black just lets it flow freely, heavy beard. Place of Birth/Raising: Saldea, Maradon History: Tyosh's story begins when he was just a lad. As a child, he always knew what would become of him; he would own his father's tavern. Just like his father had known and his grandfather before him. He was happy with the decision; he liked to have that kind of certainty in his life. But more than the certainty, it was the pleasure of knowing he didn't really have to struggle. The tavern practically ran itself; he would live a comfortable life maintaining the tavern. There was no actual satisfaction when he thought about it; he would run the tavern to maintain the tavern. Most of the time Tyosh considered having so much coin to his name to be a waste. He was quite simplistic, have enough to survive and be happy and everything else was just there to occupy space. But since running the tavern was practically a family tradition, he accepted his future with enthusiasm. His youngest memories were sitting in the tavern next to his father while he served drinks and his mother prepared meals, both always trying to keep their customers happy. And the years that followed were much the same, Tyosh learning every trick of the trade. He tried to spend as much time as possible in the tavern as if to soak in all the years of experience from his father, not to mention on the whole he enjoyed it. The peddlers always brought interesting wares, the caravans always brought pretty ladies to dance with, there were a countless number of songs he learned from the bards and he was a favorite anywhere because of all the stories and acrobatics he had learned from gleemen. But most of all he thought it made his parents happy. That was why he was completely dumbfounded and shocked when on his fifteenth his parents told him he was to live with his uncle and aunt for a few seasons. Apparently the tavern wasn't doing so well so they were sending him away for a while until they were back on their feet. Tyosh had no choice and decided it was all for the better and went quietly. His aunt and uncle lived somewhat distanced from any established community; they were what you would call hermits. Tyosh wouldn't call himself a city boy by any means but this lifestyle was just too different from his accustomed life of shouting, laughing and singing. He would make the most of it he supposed. He always wanted to take up on the offer his uncle had proposed, of teaching him to shoot a bow, when in fact he would learn so much more. The very next day after he had a arrived at the small, bare cottage his uncle awoke him a few moments before dawn, his only instruction being to get ready and outside without delay. He did as he was told very grudgingly and apparently with wool in his head. As soon as he stepped out the door a bow and quiver were shoved into his arms along with a knife that was very close to being a short sword. "Keep talk to a minimum and if you must talk keep it to a low whisper" his uncle told him, Tysho found this a bit harsh but followed the order anyways. After that his uncle motioned him into the thick of a forest close by and in the forest they were engulfed in silence. Tysho noticed his uncle moved with a smoothness and gracefulness he could only try to emulate in some wild fantasy. But nonetheless he tried, and failed miserably. After only a few hours Tysho had scared off dozens of rabbits, a few deer and some ducks. "Well my boy, I thought maybe I could take you out to get a feel for hunting but this is breakfast we're looking for here, so go on back while I get us a decent meal" his uncle said without putting much thought into it. Tysho felt extremely disappointed in himself that he couldn't even accompany his uncle to hunt; at this rate he thought he'd never get to hunt anything for himself. Back at the cottage he arrived just in time to see his aunt about to embark on her own little "hunting" with a basket in hand. By the look on her face she guessed what happened and when she asked him if he wanted to accompany her on some herb collecting he gladly accepted not wanting to stay in the dull cottage alone. She enjoyed talking and Tysho let himself forget about his earlier sullenness and take in the pleasure of good company. She would talk about lots of things, how the furs her husband collected were good money, about the weather, current events, she was apparently very in need of someone to talk to. But one of the things she got really enthused about talking about were the herbs, she went on and on about sawleaf, redbell, hensfoot and about a hundred other herbs she knew the use of. During the walk his aunt taught him some herb lore and told him the names of some of the herbs they saw and collected. All in all it was pretty pleasant for him. Later that day his uncle decided to teach him slowly instead of just throwing him into the wild. He took him into the woods again and showed him the floor of the forest, its little clearings between leaves, which twigs and branches to move and how to avoid scaring the animals by moving in synch with the "life of nature" as his uncle called it. He didn't progress much that day, but it did help a bit. When they returned to the cottage his uncle started teaching him the bow as well. In that at least Tysho seemed to be proficient and after a few practice shots could dig an arrow deeply into a haystack. The days after that first, seemed to follow that same pattern. He kept taking morning walks with his aunt and learned more and more about herb lore. It wasn't that he was trying to learn but with his aunt going on about it, it sort of just seeped into his mind. His hunting however progressed a bit slower, but nonetheless he progressed. But his abilities to keep quiet were wasted though. He was becoming such a good shoot on the bow, that he could hit prey when he was out of hearing distance. He was always proud of his latest great catch, he'd skin the thing himself, cook, gut it and all. Those little things his uncle taught him gave him worth somehow. And when they'd travel to a market to sell the furs he'd always boast a bit of his latest endeavors. He received letters from his parents; the letters always avoided the subject of the tavern, so he supposed they still weren't all that great. But eventually there was talk about the tavern, good talk. The tavern was gaining its old splendor back and eventually they asked him to come back. He did play with the thought for a bit but after some consideration he decided to stay. This life of solitude and small achievements made him feel better then all his years at home, so he decided to give himself more time at the cottage. He missed home but he wouldn't let that come in the way of becoming better in all the things he now loved. And to pass the time, his uncle decided he needed to toughen up a bit and take up a good, reliable weapon, like a quarterstaff. And so after hunting and practicing with his bow, his uncle and he would spar for great lengths of time. The long duration was always at Tysho's behest, trying to get at least one blow on his uncle. He went to sleep everyday aching and tired but somewhat fulfilled, in fact he noticed he hadn't thought of home in ages it seemed. And that's how the time passed, seasons became winters and before he knew it 5 winter's had passed in that far away cottage. By that time, he could move like his uncle, one with nature, and truly hear all that nature has to offer. He could best him at the quarterstaff every once in a while as well. And his shooting only got faster, more precise and instinctive. Herb-wise he could probably season a stew with herbs you'd never even heard of and he'd even made a balm of his own that took the sting off of a nasty cut. But with all the time passed he decided it was enough he was going to go home. He felt thankful to these people that taught him so much about everything. He really couldn't express his gratitude in words but he tried. But they did express their feelings and gave him one of their horses, he named it, Arrow. After much difficulty, leaving such wonderful people was very saddening, he set off for Maradon. He didn't realize how much he'd miss his parents; as soon as he arrived he felt something well up in his throat. He walked through the door of the tavern and truly felt awkward. He entered the place of his childhood with the toys of a man, his bow, quarterstaff and knife felt out of place here, like they didn't belong at this, his place of youth. But he sure did feel welcome anyways, his mother and father welcomed him and battered every bit of his life at the cottage and he in return asked all about the shop. It all went smoothly from there. It seemed as if no time had passed at all, they hadn't even missed a beat. And they lived happily for many a year until his mother passed from a grave fever and his father from grief. Tyosh grieved his loss deeply but kept his family tradition intact and ran the tavern. But he also hunted to remember his good times at the cottage and wandered around herb shops snooping around asking about prices and quizzing random shopkeepers to test his knowledge. He lived in this manner until around the time he was at the age of twenty-four. There had been a terrible fire at the tavern; he knew exactly who it had been. When he was growing up there had always been another tavern a little ways from his own. It didn't blossom and grow as well as his, not because it didn't have good service and wares but because Tyosh's tavern had been there first. And while Tyosh's family lived well the opposing tavern strived to survive. Eventually just like with Tyosh's family the other tavern passed on to a son. The son had always despised Tyosh and his tavern and some loose tongues had revealed that he had been the one who supposedly started spreading the bad word that lead to that hard situation when Tyosh was 15. Tyosh knew the son, Rynk Cecon, he was a hateful person and Tyosh wouldn't put him above to do something a bit more drastic this time. He'd heard the rumors of jealousy but he couldn't believe Rynk would stoop that low. Maybe a few critters in the ale, termites in the wood but to burn it down, Tyosh never would have believed it so. Tyosh had no proof for any of this, nor did he search for any he knew he wouldn't find anything. But one day maybe he'd get Rynk for some other heinous thing he'd done and make him pay for what he'd done to him and everyone else he'd hamper just to get ahead. Tysho promised it to himself. He lost everything, most of his gold and clothing. He'd been able to save some of the nicer ones; he'd also saved his hunting gear. But besides that he only had his horse. He decided to ask for some favors from close friends, which turned out to be nothing but enemies. No one wanted to have anything to do with him, no one would take him in, lend him enough. So he struck out for the only other home he had ever known, the cottage. There he found his widowed aunt (his uncle passed some time ago). She pained at the news and offered much comfort. She tried to make him as comfortable as possible, but what he really wanted was to be alone. He didn't actually know why he came here again. And as soon as his aunt fell asleep, he left again with the stealth his uncle had taught him. He slept under the stars that night and planned what he would do. And then he realized there was really only one thing he could do. Live off the land until he could get back on his feet, he knew he could get a pretty penny for some herbs and furs. So herbs and hunting that would be his life now. The land would practically give him everything he needed until he could get his tavern back if he really did want it back. But for now he didn't even have enough for a decent wagon to peddle his wares. So the next morning he struck out for "softer" lands in Andor in search of an easier life, all the while picking some honeyroses he could sell later on. Back to Freelander bios Category:Biographies Category:Freelanders Bios